Patchwork Heart
by NeverWonder
Summary: Together they pick up the pieces and move on; sequel to "Reflections in a Broken Mirror"


**Spoilers:** Episode 4.06 "Glease"; there are some mentions of 4.09 "Swan Song"  
**A/N:** Popular demand was that I write a sequel to "Reflections" and expand on it some. Plus I needed an excuse to have Finn do a certain something that happens later on in the fic. This is pretty much AU after "Glease", with minor canon bits from "Swan Song".

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_i._

He's been planning the move for months, long before Kurt's panicked phone call, so it's not like he's moving to New York for her. And he's only staying with them because its way cheaper than living in an apartment by himself. He has plans for his own life. This isn't just about Rachel Berry and some fantasy that moving to New York will fix everything for both of them. He explains this to Santana and his mom about fifty times while he was packing up. It's the first time his mom hasn't seemed thrilled about something involving Rachel. But he powers through it all because he can't stand Lima anymore. He's finally realized that Lima will never be enough. For the first time he feels New York good and he's ready for the future. He's going to CUNY in the fall to get his teaching degree, and a part of him realizes that he can't be truly happy or at home without _her_, no matter how hard he tries.

They rearrange the apartment so that there are three smaller bedrooms, and he moves in on a quiet Saturday when Rachel has a private lesson with a vocal coach and isn't home. Kurt informs him that since her award winning performance at the winter showcase, she's been almost completely focused on her voice. She's practically given up pleasing Miss July, even if she leaves each class feeling utterly dejected and with her entire body aching. She barely looks at him when she returns home as if she is ashamed. At first he wonders if she's uncomfortable with his presence, but she insists that it's not the case at all. She tells him that she's just tired, and she takes a mug of tea for her voice and retreats to her room.

"Are you sure that this isn't some big inconvenience for you? I mean, I know it can't be easy just dropping everything to come rushing out here." But Finn just shakes his head.

"Dude, I was already on my way; I just needed a push to get my ass in gear. I'm going to be at CUNY in the fall, and this just gives me time to get used to the city." Kurt worries his bottom lip, glancing in the direction of Rachel's room.

"But living with—I mean, won't this be awkward? I know the two of you weren't on the best of terms, and there isn't exactly a great deal of privacy here or anything."

"I can deal, Little Brother. I have a feeling this is where I'm supposed to be right now." Finn sucks in a sharp breath. "What about her? How's she doing now? She wasn't really doing all that great when I left two weeks ago. Any better?"

"She's just not herself; she hasn't been for a long time." Kurt swallows, hesitant to reveal too much. "I won't go into details, but honestly, I'm still worried. She doesn't sleep; she barely eats. And yesterday she came home from class, went to her room, and had a complete meltdown. I heard her crying and swearing; I'm pretty sure I heard her mumbling something about showing him and proving her wrong and how they could all just simply kiss her ass—her words not mine."

"Let me guess—" Kurt stopped him before he could say much more.

"From what I gathered this morning; she saw a certain donkey faced individual sucking face with some little blonde freshman, and then she had a bad dance class."

"I'm just going to say it. That Brody guy is kind of a douche." Finn's eyes darted toward Rachel's room, and he let out a soft sigh.

"I feel like it's my fault; I pushed her toward him. I pushed her toward all of this. She's really lost, Finn. I thought she was finding herself, but I was wrong."

New York is home now, and it's taking some time to get used to things. Everything is louder, and at night he can hear the cabs on the street below them. Three days later, he finds himself alone in the apartment with Rachel. Kurt's at a meeting with his boss, something about emergency photo shoots and not having a decent idea for next month, and so he's in charge of ordering dinner from the Chinese place. He slips into Rachel's room to ask her what she wants from the restaurant and finds her curled up in the middle of her bed. She looks so tired; her hair is in a loose messy pony tail, and she's not wearing any make up. It dawns on him. She's been hiding behind the heavy eyeliner and highlights. Without her makeup she looks like everything that has hurt her in the past few months is written on her face.

"Rachel," he whispers her name, and she looks up at him with tired eyes.

"I'm fine, Finn." It's such an obvious lie, but he doesn't press her on it.

"I'm going to order Chinese for tonight." He explains flatly, and she answers the implied question quickly in hopes that he will leave her to her misery.

"I just want the Szechuan stir-fry and a couple of their vegetarian egg rolls I guess." The defeat in her voice leaves him torn; a huge part of him wants to just wrap her in his arms and kiss away her pain. "I'm not really hungry."

"Rach, you need to eat something; Kurt says you hardly eat." Her eyes narrow dangerously.

"I don't care what Kurt says! It's _my life_, Finn, _mine._" He makes a quick escape, narrowly avoiding whatever she picks up to throw at him. "Why does everyone keep trying to live my life for me?"

At three A.M. he hears her crying in her room because he sleeps between her and Kurt and it's not like they have real walls. In his mind's eye he can see her, curled up in the center of the bed and sobbing, her entire body shaking. There's no question what he should do, and so he slips into her room and gently slides into bed with her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close until she cries herself out; before she wakes he'll be out of the room so she won't remember, but at least for tonight he'll hold her and make everything okay.

_ii_.

It's not exactly the life they'd dreamed about when they were seniors. New York isn't enough to make everything right. Kurt and Blaine are still broken up, and Kurt's seeing a guy from work. The apartment is quiet most of the time, and Rachel still stays on her own more often than not—that is when she isn't fighting with Kurt. Sometimes it feels like they will never be ok again, and he begins to worry that eventually they are just going fall apart completely.

Kurt's internship is paid, and they get some money from their parents; it's not like they really need jobs or anything. But they decide that they would like decent cable and faster internet, and Finn insists that he eats too much and wants to pitch in on the food fund. So the great employment hunt begins. Rachel's ridiculously picky, and she turns her nose up at the idea of working in the music store where she buys her sheet music because that's where Brody buys his. She also turns down an offer from Kurt, who suggests that they might need some help around Isabelle's office. In the end she winds up getting a job as a waitress in this little 50s diner where no one she knows from school eats and she makes them all swear on all that is holy and Broadway that they won't laugh at her uniform, which consists of a red knee length shirt, black short sleeve button up top with red cuffs, an apron, a little red pillbox hat, bobby socks, and oxford shoes. Occasionally it involves roller skates, but she insists that she'll only wear them if they make her.

It only takes a phone call to land Finn a job; his major advisor knows the director of an after school music program for grade school kids that will also be open during the summer, and they are looking for someone to work with their class of ten and eleven year olds. It's only three days a week and every other Saturday, but he makes ten dollars an hour, which will make a huge dent in their pizza and Chinese food habits. Rachel tells him over and over how lucky he is that he only has to wear a nice polo and khakis, but he's pretty sure his advisor is putting him to the test to see if he really is serious about teaching music. It turns out that he really loves his job. He finally feels like he's doing something important and worthwhile.

It turns out that Rachel's only talking to one person these days, and it's the last person either of them imagined. Kurt hears her on the phone with Santana, talking about how lonely she is, and Finn finds her on Skype one night, sobbing and telling Santana that having him here hasn't fixed anything. She snaps her laptop closed and hangs up the phone before either of them could hear too much. It's like she doesn't trust them. These secretive conversations become more and more frequent, and the only thing they learn is that Santana is moving to New York City and that Rachel is at least happy about that. When she arrives, the apartment becomes a battle zone.

"You two really expect me to tell you what's wrong with Rachel Berry?" Santana has been raging for the past hour. "You, Hummel, are her best friend, and fucking hell Jolly Green, you're her supposed soul mate. Of all people, you two should know her the best."

"Most days I don't even recognize her. She hasn't been herself for a long time."

"Yeah, and you've done a fantastic job of keeping her grounded and helping her remember who she is. You, her best friend and the only person she knew in a huge ass city, and she needed you. You were always trying to change her, Kurt, and now she's everything you wanted. You wanted her to be less Rachel Berry, and so that's what she became. You pushed and pushed until she broke." Santana's voice remains almost eerily calm, and Finn can't help but feel the storm rising. "You kept trying to change everything about her, and now you're pissed off because it worked."

"Nobody forced her, Santana. No one tied her down and made her dye her hair and wear all that makeup; nobody made her get with that douche bag." He immediately regrets saying anything when Santana rounds on him, and he's quick to defend himself. "This is not my fault."

"No, Hudson, you only lied to her, sent her off to a big city with nobody to help her when she thought you were going to get married. I never thought there would come a day when I had to explain her to _you_." His eyes narrow. "You of all people should get it. She's always been convinced that everything comes with strings attached. She spends all her time waiting for the other shoe to drop. She kept waiting for you to get tired of her, convinced that you were only with her because she'd stalked you until you got tired of running."

"That's not true—" But Santana cut him off, holding her finger up and hissing between her teeth.

"Maybe it isn't. But imagine for a moment that you are always picked second. Imagine that your _mother_ rejected you not once but twice. Now imagine that the love of your life tricks you into getting on a train on your wedding day, and then comes back into your life only to leave you again. Can you see now why she might think that she's alone? Can you see how she might think that everything no one really loves her? Her best friend wants her to change, and everyone who is supposed to love her leaves? It's a wonder she trusts anyone, least of all herself. Jesus Hudson, don't you understand your girl at all?"

The truth is an ugly thing sometimes. And after Santana leaves, he and Kurt stare at each other wondering when the truth about their lives and Rachel became so ugly, especially when their hopes and dreams were supposed to be so beautiful. When Rachel gets home, she simply nods at her roommates and goes to take a shower, muttering under her breath about how much she hates that she smells like meat. Kurt swears that he hears her crying, but he can't bring himself to say anything. Rachel is still so determined to pretend that she's handling things well, and any mention of her potential problems is start of a fight that threatens to bring down the entire building. He keeps his worries to himself and ignores the way Finn looks at him.

_iii._

_Work, practice, fail to sleep, practice, fight with Kurt, practice, fail to sleep, avoid eye contact with Finn. _She's pretty sure she's punishing herself with poor eating habits and failure to sleep. She works herself into exhaustion and then punishes herself for stumbling or cracking, ignoring the way everyone tells her that she needs to stop and rest. It's almost as if she is trying to prove that she's still worthy of the city and her dreams. She can't trust herself anymore, and she barely has any contact with the ones she loves. When her fathers call she keeps the conversation short, and even Santana, who has become more of a best friend than Kurt now, can barely get through her walls.

"I'm fine, Papa; I've just been busy." She sounds so tired on the phone, and her fathers tell her for the hundredth time that they are worried. "I'm sorry I haven't called, but I'm just so busy. Between voice lessons, extra work to pass my dance classes, and work at the diner, I barely have time to breathe, much less pick up the phone."

"Bunny, we just want you to be happy and well." Hiram Berry sounds like he's ready to take the first train to New York City, and she'll do anything to keep him away. "Have you been getting plenty of rest?"

"I'm fine. I don't need anyone trying to babysit me. You and Daddy have nothing to worry about." The sharpness in her voice makes her wince; she's never rude to her fathers. "I'm so sorry, Papa; I'm just a little tired. I had a long shift at the diner."

"You'll call if you need us then?" The pain in her father's voice hurts.

"I promise." As soon as they hang up, Rachel slips into the bathroom, glad no one is there to see her; she runs a bath so hot it stings her skin, as if perhaps she can burn away her sins.

She wonders when she started hating herself. Was it the first time Cassandra July called her a horrible name? Was it the moment she allowed Brody to kiss her? Was it when Finn severed all contact with her? Was it when she realized that Brody had betrayed her and she'd fallen for it? Or was it the moment when she realized that her dreams were not enough anymore? She's done some stupid selfish things, but she's never felt as if she couldn't look at her own reflection without disgust. She's never been ashamed of herself before, not like this, and she's certainly never felt this lost. Finn coming to New York should fix everything, but she worries that everything is too broken. What if things can't be fixed?

Brody shows up at the diner with his latest freshman fling. She's not sure how he found her or why he thinks he needs to keep humiliating her, but she nearly gets fired for chasing him out of the restaurant until she makes up a story about how he's been stalking her for months. Unfortunately she can't stop thinking about the things he said about her. The entire shift is spent skating from table to table, trying to remember orders while her mind races. Was she really destined to be all washed up like her mother? Was she nothing but a poor man's Streisand look-a-like? She's better than him, so much better than a jerk who thinks he needs to sleep his way through ever freshman girl at NYADA. She knows that she should ignore him, but honestly, it stings more than it should. She's so tired of feeling like a verbal and emotional punching bag.

Once upon a time she was good at hiding her insecurities—at least she thought she was. Only Finn knew just how devastated she'd been when Shelby abandoned her twice, and no one knew just how lonely she'd been in high school. Every friendship was tenuous, and everything came with a catch. She's grown to accept that as one of life's many unpleasant truths. But lately her insecurities constantly defeat her, changing her and making her do foolish things. Every criticism now feels like an attack; every question about how much she's changed is an accusation. She feels like everyone is staring at her, and it's not like the feeling of standing in the spotlight delivering an incredible moving solo. She's not sure when she became a side show freak, but she's tired of the pity and judgment she sees in their eyes when they look at her. The effort she puts into pretend that nothing is wrong has become exhausting. The days when the dam breaks and all her emotions escape are the worst.

"I do not need to see a therapist! I'm not going crazy." She practically screams at her best friend when he suggests maybe she should talk to someone about the stress. "I'm just tired and busy. There is absolutely nothing wrong with me."

"This is a little more than you being over worked, Rachel, and you know it."

"Some of us didn't have our dream job dropped into our laps, Kurt. Some of us actually have to work for it." She does absolutely nothing to hide the venom in her voice. "Not all of us got our fairytale life. So forgive me if I'm tired and grouchy."

"You barely eat; you hardly ever sleep." Kurt tries desperately to keep his voice even. "You need to talk to someone, and you won't talk to me."

"I'm so sorry that I'm messing up your perfect fantasy." Angry tears sting her eyes. "What more do you want from me? What else can I change? Am I still too dramatic? Would you like me to call Brody and beg him to take me back so I can have a perfect New York boyfriend to match yours? What else can I do to make sure that I fit the role you want me to play?"

"Rachel, sweetie—"

"This is not what I wanted. This is not who I wanted to be." The tears fall freely now. "But I'm exactly the friend you always wanted. I fit into your life perfectly. I'm stylish and sophisticated; I don't wear knee socks or obsess over your brother. I'm a dream come true for you. "

"Would you listen to yourself? You sound insane!" Kurt snaps. "I never forced you into anything. I was trying to help you. All you had to do what say no, Rachel. You could have stayed exactly the same. You _chose_ this."

"And if I'd stayed the same you would've judged me, just like you always have. I've never been good enough, Kurt. You always find something wrong with me. Sometimes I wonder if we're friends at all."

"That's a hell of a thing to say after all we've been through. All I did was help you dress like you belonged in New York City." Neither of them sees Finn come in from his trip to the gym. "I know for a fact that you love the way you look. You're always talking about how great your new clothes are and how much you love the way you feel in them."

"This isn't about my clothes, Kurt. It's never been about my clothes. You never understand because you never listen." It's times like these that she wishes that the loft had more doors to slam. "Don't you get it? Don't you see?"

She storms off, bumping into Finn on her way to her room, and he can see the tears streaking down her face. Some things haven't changed; Rachel still cries in private, unwilling to let anyone see her vulnerabilities. She's always been afraid that if she shows weakness the world will eat her alive and it dawns on him that she's had far too much practice lately.

_iv_.

Kurt and Rachel are not speaking. Instead they pass messages through the passive-aggressive use of a chalkboard hanging in the living room. Things like "taking five hours to moisturize your face will not help your giant pores" and "the next time I find a bottle of vanilla sugar lotion on my side of the counter I'm going to flush it down the toilet" are written in massive letters with pink and yellow chalk, and they glare at each other from across the room. The last time tension was this high between them they were in high school, and Finn thought they would never get over it. This seems so much worse. They've even started labeling the food in the refrigerator and only shopping for themselves, and it doesn't show signs of ending any time soon.

Any attempts to diffuse the situation only lead to more anger and lashing out; Rachel calls Kurt an overbearing ass with a compulsive need to change everything to fit his fantasy and tells him that he's just bitter because he didn't get into NYADA, and Kurt screams that she is just being a drama queen and blaming everyone but herself for the fact that her life isn't turning out the way she planned and that it's no wonder she's alone because no one would want her. They seem to absolutely hate each other, and it's been going on for a month. The only thing that gives Finn any hope that in the end they will be ok is the fact that neither of them has attempted to move out of the loft. But for two people who are supposed to be best friends, they're vicious to each other, striking where they know they'll do the most damage.

To make matters worse, Rachel's anger with Kurt is starting to bleed into her interactions with Finn. She snaps at him all the time, especially when he notices that she's upset and tries to comfort her. There are only so many times she can say something cold and sharp in response to his offers to help that he can take; the longer things go on, the worse his relationship—can they call it that—with Rachel seems to get. It's as if she's afraid to let him into her life again.

_v._

"It's him again, isn't it?" He can't seem to leave the Brody thing alone, and this time it leads to an explosion. "You always get like this about him."

"Go away Finn," she mutters, refusing to look up from the magazine on her lap as she curls herself into a tighter ball on the couch. "You don't know anything."

"I know you haven't been yourself lately. I know you don't eat or sleep and you work yourself to death. I know there's something wrong." He notices the wedding dresses on the photo spread as he drops his gym bag next to the couch, but he doesn't think about what they mean. "You aren't over him are you? I mean, you get all worked up every time something happens with him. Losing someone you love is really hard."

"I didn't love him." The murmured words barely register at first. "I didn't even like him that much. I just wanted to feel wanted for a little while."

"So that's what all this was about?" He's not sure where the anger that suddenly boils up in his chest is coming from. "The hair and makeup, the new clothes, _him_, all so you could feel wanted? I guess me wanting you wasn't enough."

"You didn't want me at all!" The words fly out, hanging in the air between them. "No one ever wants me. No one ever will."

"Obviously he did." His words have more venom than he intends. "He wanted you, and I guess he got what he wanted. I always knew you'd get to New York and someone like him would take you from me. I just didn't realize how easy it would be."

"You weren't here, Finn. You shut me out for months."

"I came back!"

"And then you ran from me again." The tears sparkle in her eyes because she refuses to let them fall. "I was so happy to see you, so glad you'd come home to me. But then you wouldn't stay. You wouldn't even sing with me."

"So you sang with _him._"

"I sang to you!" Her voice cracks, laced with pain as she fights the urge to run. "But it didn't matter. We went to bed angry, and when I woke up you were gone. You left me, Finn. I'm tired of everyone walking out of my life. I'm tired of being left behind."

"I didn't belong here, and I saw the way he looked at you. He was all New York City perfect, and I couldn't compete with that." She practically launches herself off the couch to make her escape. "So yeah, I ran away, and it was a chicken shit move. But what was I supposed to do, Rachel? Was I supposed to sit around here watching you slowly get tired of dragging me around? Was I supposed to just wait for the day when you decided you could do better?"

"You were supposed to fight for me! You were supposed to love me enough to want to be with me." Her voice seems to be breaking, and he can barely hear her. "We were supposed to be married. Not broken up and living in two different states. You abandoned me on our wedding day! I had my wedding dress in the car, and you took me to a train station instead."

"I was doing what was best for you!"

"I didn't need you to do what was best for me. I didn't need you to conspire with my fathers to put me on a train and send me off by myself." Rachel's words hold an accusation that cuts him like a knife. "You could have trusted me, Finn. You could've told me what was happening and trusted me to handle it. But you hid from me instead. You shut me out! Can you blame me for realizing that you didn't want me? For clinging to the one person who seemed to want me, who seemed to chase me instead? You promised me forever, and then you disappeared."

He did the right thing, and he knows it; she needed to be in New York. But he'd never thought about what it might mean for her. It had never occurred to him that she might feel abandoned instead of free. He had assumed that she would understand that they were doing the right thing, and when she came to Lima and they made their break up official he was sure of it. Now as he watches her, tears streaking down her face and eyes narrowed in righteous anger, he realizes that she saw it as a betrayal. He suddenly understands her anger. He hadn't trusted her to make her own choices; her fathers had been so eager to help him send her on her way, and he hadn't asked Rachel how she would feel about long distance. He hadn't even asked her to wait for him. It's easy to see now how she might think he had given up on them and abandoned her, and when she starts to rush off to her room, he reaches out to stop her.

"I should've trusted you; I should have asked you to wait."

"Finn, just let me go." She sounds so tired, and her eyes fall to his hand encircling her wrist. "That should be easy for you to do, so just let me go."

"What if I don't want to?" The petite woman pulls half-hearted away, but he won't let go. "What if I never wanted to?"

"It's a little too late for that don't you think?"

"Is it?" When she finally tugs her hand free he follows her to the bedroom, reaching out to touch her shoulder, and she jerks away as if she's burned. "Is it really too late for me to tell you that I love you?"

"Finn, don't," the tears are back, and she turns away so that he can't see.

"Don't what, Rach? Don't tell the truth? Don't look at you?" Gently, he reaches for her, turning her so that he can see her eyes, and one thumb softly sweeps a tear from her cheek. "Is it really so hard to believe that I still love you—that I never stopped?"

"Finn—" His lips on hers stop her protests, soft but warm and insistent, and he has to wrap his arms around her as she almost melts.

It's strange and yet familiar to feel her trembling in his arms; she kisses him almost desperately, her fingers gripping his t-shirt, and together they baby step into the darkness of the bedroom until the backs of her calves hit the bed. When he reaches to turn on the lamp by her bed, she stops him with fear in her eyes. Vaguely he recalls the first time he saw her naked, the way she blushed and tried to cover up as if she had something to be ashamed of; now he'd seen her naked more times that he can count, and he couldn't imagine why she'd want to hide.

"Please don't hide from me." His gaze is soft and earnest, and she moves her hand to allow him to switch on the lamp; in the glow of the light she can see the way he's looking at her, as if he worried that he might never see her again. "Please."

His hands gently hook in the hem of her t-shirt, pulling it over her head, and she has to suppress the urge to wrap her arms over her chest and cover the pink and green polka dotted satin of her bra. His lips part in a soft sigh, and he lets a one hand gently push her hair back over her shoulder before pressing a soft kiss to her lips. He sheds his shirt and kneels in front of her, his hands resting on the smooth skin of hips, almost able to wrap completely around her tiny waist, and his breath catches in his throat. The smallest of smiles flickers across his lips, and she marvels at the way it makes her feel. There's nothing quite like the way her heart swells when he looks at her; it's like he's seeing something she's never been able to see in herself. His lips are soft and warm as they brush over her skin, and when he reaches to slide her yoga pants from her hips her eyes squeeze shut. He waits for her to open them again before sliding the fabric the rest of the way down her legs and helping her step out of them. Tentatively she moves her hands over his chest, as if she's unsure whether she has to the right to touch him. The question in his eyes remains unasked as his gaze roams her body. She knows he's wondering if someone else saw her like this, vulnerable and naked.

For a brief moment he feels self conscious; he's acutely aware that there's probably a sheen of sweat left over from his workout. But then Rachel lets out this small sigh, and he forgets those concerns. He hates that he can't seem to ignore the fact that someone else might have touched her, and his hands shake as he looks up at her, taking in the steady rise and fall of her chest and the way her abdomen contracts when his fingers brush over her navel. She's so beautiful, and he knows that she still doesn't really believe it; the fact that Brody might have seen her like this—might have touched her and kissed her—makes him sick, and he swallows thickly when she whispers his name and not Brody's.

"Did he—I mean, did you and he," he can't get the question out, and he immediately regrets even trying to ask it.

"No," she whispers her reply, barely audible even in the silence. "I couldn't."

"But you and he—I figured," his words die on his lips, and he rises to meet her gaze.

"He wasn't you. I could never—" His hand tenderly cups her cheek, and he can feel the tears when she presses against his palm.

Their lips meet in a soft kiss, barely brushing at first as they breathe each other in, and her fingers tremble against his skin. Her eyes flutter closed, and he wraps her in his arms to pull her close to him, unable to take the distance between their bodies. It's sort of clumsy the way he rises to his feet because he's unwilling to let her go, but somehow he manages to lay her back on the bed before shedding his shorts and joining her. Everything seems to move in slow motion, and he touches her so gently that she wonders if he fears he might break her. His lips travel over her skin, raising goose bumps in their wake, and as they brush the curves of her breasts she lets out a soft whimper. His hands slip beneath her to find the clasp of her bra, and it quickly opens, allowing her to lift her body just enough for him to slide the material away. Almost instantly his lips envelope an already pebbled nipple and she moans his name as his teeth and tongue graze the sensitive skin. Her fingers rake through his hair, and moments later their lips collide again, this kiss fiercer and more desperate. His touch is warm and insistent, his hands seemingly everywhere at once as if he's trying to reacquaint himself with every inch of her body. Every sensation is magnified tenfold, searing through her like fire, and she feels as if she's finally returning to her body.

His fingers hook the waistband of her panties, and her hips lift to let them slip off and down her legs. Her body trembles beneath him as he pulls away for a moment, his eyes taking in the way she glows in the lamp light. Her eyes flutter open to find him staring, and a faint blush colors her cheeks when she hears him mutter that she's beautiful. It's been so long since she's felt the way she feels now. When his fingers brush the sensitive heated skin between her thighs, finding her wet and wanting, she keens out his name and her hips rock upward. He teases her gently until she's writhing beneath him, and her lips tremble when she kisses him.

"Finn, please," her voice is soft and breathy, hands sliding down to his waist to push his boxer briefs off his hips, and there's a brief moment of fumbling until he gets them off and settles back over her.

"Rachel," he breathes her name as he enters her, and as they meld together as one it feels like coming home.

They move together slowly, and Rachel's fingers gently stroke his cheek when their lips meet in soft, tender kisses. He pulls her lower lip into his mouth, sucking softly, and one hand slides down her body to hook under her knee, wrapping it around his waist and pull her tighter against him. It's so easy to fall back into a perfect rhythm, as if they were never apart. Rachel's hands slide over his chest and shoulders, moving down his back and feeling the muscles tighten with each movement of his hips. Moaning together, they shift their weight, rolling so that Rachel is above him, and he sits up slowly and wraps his arms around her, hands sliding down to hold her hips for a moment. Rachel's head falls back as she moves in slow sensuous rhythm, her body rising and falling above him, and he finds himself staring. It's a sight he never thought he'd see again, and the feeling of her warm body pressed against his is like heaven. When they reach their peaks, one after the other, it comes upon them like waves from the ocean, inundating them with pleasure.

She falls against him, her entire body trembling and her head resting on his chest. He holds her close and presses soft kisses to the top of her hair. Neither of them speaks, but the silence speaks for them. They're at peace in each other's arms, and later that night when she slips out of bed to turn out the light, she doesn't hesitate to return to his arms. She falls asleep with his arms around her, her back pressed against his chest and his lips pressed to her bare shoulder. It's the first time sleep comes effortlessly in heaven knows how long.

_vi_.

"So you two—"

"None of your business, Kurt," Finn's whisper cuts off the question before it starts. "And keep your voice down. She's finally sleeping."

"You shouldn't, you know. She doesn't need distractions, Finn." Kurt peers over his coffee, his voice carrying an accusation.

"Who the hell are you to say what Rachel needs?"

"I'm her _best friend_. I've been with her, looking out for her."

"Yeah, and you did one hell of a job." Finn tries to keep the edge out of his voice, but the more Kurt talks the angrier he gets. "She's a picture of happiness, Kurt. Crying herself to sleep at night and working herself till she passes out because she's too tired to move."

"That is not my fault. I never forced her to do anything. If she didn't like it—"

"What, she could have said something? And risk making you hate her? You were all she had out here. She'd do anything to make sure she didn't lose you too." His whispers grow harsher with every passing moment. "I screwed up, and she got hurt. I did what was best for her, but I didn't ask her how she felt. She thought I pretty much abandoned her here, and she would have done anything not to have you do the same."

"I would never," Kurt actually sounds offended, but from the look in his eyes Finn can tell he's thinking about the same thing.

"Sure, you would never humiliate her by dressing her in a cat suit to impress me. Or shut her out because she freaked out over possibly not getting into her dream school. You've never given her any reason to doubt your friendship." Kurt's eyes go wide. "Yeah, she told me about it—the whole Bad Sandy cat suit makeover was your idea, and I figured you wanted to embarrass her in front me."

"That was a long time ago, Finn. I was stupid and jealous. She told me she was in love with you, and I didn't want competition. But she knows—"

"Are you so sure she knows you wouldn't do it again? Do you even know her at all? Santana was right; she thinks everything comes with strings attached. Why would your friendship be any different when you two have never been exactly solid?"

The argument only stops because Rachel comes tiptoeing into the kitchen, her hair messy and her eyes still sleepy; she tugs at the tank top she's wearing and stumbles toward the coffee pot. Glancing between them, she can feel the tension in the room but she's already overslept and the idea of being late to work no matter how much she hates her job is unthinkable. Impulsively she pauses next to Finn, stands on her toes, and kisses his stubble covered cheek; his hand lifts to his cheek, and she looks up at him shyly before quickly pouring her coffee and rushing off to get ready for work. She's not sure why she kisses him, but considering what happened the night before, it doesn't seem so out of place. The events of last night are burned into her memory, and yet she doesn't regret them. Her only regret is not telling Finn that she loved him then and there. Soon, she promises herself as she steps into the shower, soon she'll tell him everything.

Several hours later her shift at the diner is finally ending, and she's exhausted; it's been a roller skate day at the diner, and she's had the busiest section all day. Gliding over to the counter, she leans against it to start counting out her tips, and she doesn't notice when he walks in with a crowd. All she has to do is wait for Finn to come by and she can go home; he doesn't like her to make the long trip home alone at night, and he insists on picking her up. When she hears her name, she turns gracefully, only to see Brody Weston leering at her.

"So it's true then." She rolls her eyes and turns away. "At least the uniform is hot."

"Leave me alone." But he simply takes a few steps forward, his friends laughing.

"So you've become Diner Girl now? Practicing for the role you'll be playing once you graduate?" She doesn't look back, determined not to let him see that on some level he's hurt her. "Good news though, you can at least flash your ass for extra tips in that skirt."

"What did you say?" Its Finn's voice she hears cutting through the noise, but she can't seem to make herself move, intent on becoming invisible instead.

"Oh look, Berry that rumor was true too. The loser from Ohio came to New York, and you took him back." Rachel bites back tears, still determined not to turn around. "So you can scoot around on your little skates, flashing your ass for extra tips, and then go home to the giant loser from your home town. Hell, why'd you even come to New York? You should've stayed in that Podunk little town of yours."

What happens next happens almost too quickly for her to recount later. Some choice swear words echo in the diner, followed by the solid thud of a fist striking flesh. She's pretty sure she hears the faint crack of bone breaking, and then Brody lets out this oddly feminine wail. Instinct demands she run—or skate because she hasn't gotten a chance to put her sneakers on—and Finn grabs her hand. She faintly hears Brody scream something about the bastard breaking his nose and how the little bitch will pay for it before she slides into the first available cab next to Finn and dissolves into hysterical panicky laughter.

"You broke his nose, Finn." She's breathless, and her voice raises an octave. "You broke his nose, and I'm going to lose my job now."

"Sorry—" Her lips crash against his, cutting off his apology, and the cab driver has to clear his throat to separate them.

_vii._

Rachel gets a phone call two days after the incident with Brody informing her that she should return her uniform as soon as possible and pick up her final paycheck from the diner at her earliest convenience. She apologizes to the manager several times for the disturbance, but nothing could prevent her from losing her job. If she's being honest with herself, she's almost glad that its over because she's tired of smelling like greasy meat every day. Kurt applauds the fact that she's no longer wearing a tacky uniform daily, and for the first time they sit down to talk.

"I don't blame you," she admits softly, toying with a braided pigtail. "I know you were only trying to help."

"I pushed you too hard, Rach. I wasn't listening or paying attention; I guess I really was caught up in the fantasy." They're playing a particularly cutthroat game of monopoly because Finn thinks board games will help them relax, and Rachel snags Park Avenue with a maniacal laugh. "I should've noticed that you weren't happy and I should've been able to help. I just made it worse with the hair and the makeup and the new clothes. I thought you wanted to move forward, and so I pushed you."

"I liked my new clothes and my hair, and I always wanted to be New York chic. But I guess I tried to hide behind it. I wanted to believe that this city and NYADA could be enough, and so I faked it." Finn glares over at her when he lands on one of her properties that already has three little houses on it and she holds out her hand for rent. "I guess I'm not a bad actress after all."

"We were all lost." Finn mutters as he counts out his money for Rachel's rent. "And we all screwed up. We were supposed to come to New York and build this life where Lima would be some stupid memory we'd never go back to. And when it started to go wrong we—we didn't exactly handle it right, did we? Instead of running away maybe we should have actually faced it."

"Are we done running now?" Rachel shoves her little tin car around the square where it sits. "Can we start over?"

"Haven't we done that already?" They start to laugh before Kurt pauses to give Finn a look. "Ok, how long does it take to count Monopoly money? Seriously, I'll like to try to steal the last railroad before Rachel does."

"Uh, I'm tapped out." He glances over at Rachel, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Maybe I can find another way to pay my rent."

"If you two start that I'm moving out and living with Lopez." Kurt shoves Rachel playfully as she moves to kiss Finn and the board topples off the table, causing them all to dissolve into laughter.

In the weeks that follow things start to fall back into place; Rachel decides that Brody can get over himself and goes to work at the music shop, and Kurt winds up dumping the guy from work over the phone because he gets an explicit text message with the wrong name in it. Blaine shows up on their doorstep and announces that he's gotten into NYU, and suddenly their loft has two bedrooms split between the two couples. They still fight sometimes, over stupid things, and it takes Rachel some time to put things back together. She starts wearing color again, and no longer having Cassandra July means her classes seem to be good for the next year. Everything seems right again, and finally New York feels like home.


End file.
